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Showing posts from May, 2019

Jesus on the 46A

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Jesus was on the bus today.   He got on the 46A at the stop at UCD. He scanned his bus pass and despite his advanced years, nimbly navigated the stairs to go to the upper deck, bag in hand.   As he passed, people began to swear at him, move away, open windows, put their own bags on the seat near them so he wouldn’t sit near them. He stank strongly of urine and his clothes looked like they hadn’t been washed in months. “He shouldn’t have been let on the bus”, I hear a voice say behind me.   “He doesn’t look homeless”, another said.   “I’m going to be sick”, another said, as she rose, pressed the bell for the next stop and went down the stairs.  Jesus was on the bus. He was sat two seats away from me and all others had moved away from around him. Part of me wanted to turn around and say, ‘it’s okay’, the other part afraid to encounter the pain that might be in his eyes because of the reactions, the rejection and the judgement.   Another part of me thought the real ‘Christian’

Do you love me?! Gospel reflection for 3rd Sunday of Easter

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On this third Sunday of Easter we have a Gospel which many of us are very familiar with. There is the temptation to skip to the end and summarize. Okay, Peter betrayed Jesus three times, now the Lord asks him three times ‘do you love me?’ Reading in modern English, you may not get much out of it. However, if you look at the passage in the original Greek, it does make a difference. Basically, there are two different words translated as ' LOVE ' in this passage. It may help to put the two original Greek words in place of the English words in the same 3 verses above. Notice the changes below: John 21: 15 So when they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, "Simon, son of John, do you agapao me more than these?" He said to Him, "Yes, Lord; You know that I phileo You." He said to him, "Tend My lambs." (note the two different verbs used by Jesus and Peter) 16 He said to him again a second time, "Simon, son of John, do you ag

May Day- May Day!

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My Dad's garden Not a cry of distress but a reminder of a feastday we have today in Ireland- May Day. Today my Dad is on my mind a lot. I was thinking back to the years in primary schools where we prepared May altars religiously. My Dad was a brilliant gardener and had a beautiful garden, however we weren’t allowed to pick the flowers that often! One of those few occasions was for the school May Altar when it was ‘our turn’ to bring the flowers. I was always so proud to bring in that big bunch of red homegrown roses, purple lupin, bright orange marigolds, pretty forget-me-nots, vibrant dahlias and pure white lilies. Not only did they look beautiful but the perfume would fill the classroom and the other teachers who popped in would all comment on the beautiful flowers! I remember other times when the younger kids from the neighbourhood would try and ‘borrow’ some flowers. My Dad, possessive as he was of his hybrid roses, would give in and often snip one off and give i